Untitled
by Daianta
Summary: Gabriel tries to save Sam when Lucifer takes control of his body. Character death; not a happy story...


**Untitled**

**- Daianta**

I don't own Supernatural.

_Warnings for Character death and depression. I don't know what frame of mind I was when writing this..._

_Inspiration: The Scientist – Coldplay and Jar of Hearts by Christina Perri.  
>It's called Untitled because I actually have no idea what to call this. <em>

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><p><em>I had to find you...<em>

It was not supposed to end like this. The mindless violence had raged on for what felt like far too long, and now a peace had settled down on the land. The world breathed a sigh of relief that the end of its existence had been averted, and time had begun to flow again. As if nothing had ever happened.

Of course, most people would not know what happened. Only those few cursed with knowledge would fully know what had happened, what had caused the world so much distress. Lucifer had touched down on Earth. He'd walked across the land, a fallen angel who inspired fear into the hearts of men.

He'd been eager to take the body of one man and make it his own: a puppet; a substitute, a parody of the man about to go under the devil's control. That man had a name, and it would be lodged in history forever, no matter how obscure or how hidden it was.

_Tell you I need you..._

Sam Winchester. A son and a brother. A man who would do whatever possible to save as many people he could. He made it his mission to care for others, not caring when his elder brother called him effeminate for it.

Sam knew his destiny lay in the hands of a fallen angel, the Morning Star of all angels. In the darkest recesses of the night, he would sit and think about the situation he found himself in, and if he could change who he was, would he do it? Probably not. He was a man who spoke about his problems, instead of leaving them locked inside to fester. It might even save him in the long run. If there's no anger in the vessel, then Lucifer can't do any more damage than he could do now. Although the outcome would be the same, it would mean Sam would feel better.

_Tell you I set you apart..._

Sam's beloved brother Dean, too, had his own share of problems. He was by no means innocent. A liar and a womaniser, full of pain and suffering. There was love in there too. A love for his brother, who he would go to any lengths to protect and save, even if that meant being sent to Hell.

He had a love and a hatred for his father; a love for bringing him into the world and raising them when their mother died, but a hatred, too; a bitter, deep hatred for introducing him into a world of monsters, violence and death. More than that, Dean hated himself. He had been the one to break the first seal of Lucifer's cage by torturing in Hell, he had allowed his brother to become hooked on demon blood and had stood aside to watch him suffer. He'd failed Castiel in embracing humanity.

_Tell me your secrets..._

Ah, Castiel. Dean's shining light. If Sam was the moon and Dean was the sky that held him, Castiel was the stars that stood by and watched them, learning.

_And ask me your questions..._

With the Apocalypse upon them, the two men and the angel found themselves hard pressed for supernatural beings that would help them to try to win this war. The demons were too stupid to understand that if Lucifer won the war, they would all be destroyed. Well, one demon understood and had helped, even if it was for his own safety. Demons. They just weren't _human_ anymore.

They tried the angels, but no one answered them. No one wanted to intervene in their brethren's war.

_Oh, lets go back to the start._

Okay, okay. They tried me. They insulted me and damn tried to hurt me, even locking me in a circle of holy fire. I wasn't going to help them. Honestly, I was more than ready to sit back and hide myself away from the wrath of my elder brothers. They didn't scare me, but they didn't understand, therefore, I would not get involved. For that, I was branded a coward by two brothers who were damn more afraid than I was. They don't understand. I watched as my brothers argued over a trivial issue, as one of them turned their back on my father, our guiding light. On his brothers. I stood by on Earth as Lucifer was cast down from Heaven, unable to help or even make Michael see reason. The blinding, searing light of Lucifer as he stood on Earth for mere moments are forever seared on my irises. Every time I close my eyes I see him, falling, angered at his brothers, at_ me_ as we stood by and let it happen. To challenge our father meant death.

_Running away from family... From your issues._ Yeah, right. Dean may have had a point, but I was not listening. Hadn't Sam done the exact same thing as soon as he was old enough? Left the family, went off to college and university to make something of his life? I knew all about Sam Winchester.

_Running in circles  
>Coming up tails<br>Heads on a science apart._

It was Dean who made me change my view on the world. Yes, I loved humanity and all that, but _damn_, they were more then happy to kill themselves over food and religion. Maybe not so much food, but religion? Definitely.

Dean had moaned on and on about something or other that held no interest to me, but it was his emotions that drew me in. He spoke with passion, and I knew that he was interested in not only saving his brother, but saving the angel that stood loyally by his side. My younger sibling, Castiel.

_Nobody said it was easy  
>It's such a shame for us to part<br>Nobody said it was easy  
>No one ever said it would be this hard<em>

If it was supposed to throw me, spark some form of revelation in me then he didn't succeed. Please, surprise an _Archangel_? I'd seen it all before. The fact that Dean was in love with an angel who reciprocated was something new. Yeah, we loved humanity, but this... This was not an understanding of why our Father made the human race. This was loving a being who deserved you. I'm not saying Dean did or didn't deserve anyone, that's not my place to say and believe me, Deano and I did not get along. At all. Period. But he cared for Castiel more than most angels did, and that was sad. Cas had been thrown about, tossed around by angels older than him who knew of his purpose on this world but omitted it, kept it from him lest he try to back out. They were all for using him, but not for trying to understand their Father's reasoning.

It wasn't important now, though. The world was over.

_Oh, take me back to the start..._

I opened my eyes to a blue sky, one that seemed too bright and too cheerful. Every part of me hurt, physically and emotionally. I closed my eyes against the sunlight, and was assaulted by visions of the battle that had taken place.

Lucifer, standing over me, a sad, sad look on his face. Akin to pity. Whispering words of forgiveness, while edging the knife closer to my throat. My skin broke out in prickles at the feel of him so close by, but I made no attempt to push him off. He was my elder brother. I was supposed to trust him.

Sam, being overthrown by the Devil himself, invading his body. Dean's screams to stop, tears falling that were ignored. The elder Winchester ran forwards, was repelled by Michael, now wearing Adam. I remained where I was, kneeling in front of my two brothers, almost at their mercy. I knew that they would kill me, but it was worse keeping me alive. I had just watched my brother put on someone I held in high regard like a cheap business suit.

It wasn't just that. I loved Sam Winchester.

_I was just guessing  
>At numbers and figures<br>Pulling the puzzles apart_

I don't really know when I fell for him. I know for a fact it wasn't a case of I looked at him one day, and realised I was in love with him. Archangels don't do that. Nor do Tricksters. In fact, most people don't. Love is a gradual _thing_ that's supposed to sneak up on you when you don't expect it. And honestly, I didn't expect it. I enjoyed torturing Sam from the moment he stepped onto my radar. Perhaps I had misunderstood my own intentions surrounding the younger Winchester sibling, in the same way children taunt each other when they fancy one another. I didn't even realise I was doing it out of spite of my own feelings. Sam was something new, something bold that I was eager to taste and bend beneath my will.

I suppose I forgot about being an Archangel, and allowed my trickster side to take over, if only for a little while. Sam and little Deano had no idea of the true, mortal danger that lay around the corner for them, and I wasn't going to spoil it. I only had to maintain the charade for a little while longer. Dean was on his way out; Sam was slowly losing his mind.

Although, somewhere along the line, I forgot about hurting him and began to watch over him, curious, eager to observe every move he made. One could say I became obsessed. Still, I informed them of my real persona; an Archangel, and led them in the direction destiny had given them. Even if they hated me for it. Castiel was curious, however, and seemed to understand me, even if he didn't say anything. Maybe he saw more in my eyes then I saw in myself. He said nothing when I observed Sam sleep, merely turning the other way or going back to watching Dean. I scoffed and told the other angel that he was a lovelorn fool who should make Dean happy before the world ended.

_Questions of science  
>Science and progress<br>Do not speak as loud as my heart_

I pressed hands into the dirt underneath me, feeling soil work their way under my fingernails. I clawed at it, as if checking it was real; that I was alive. I pressed a cheek into the grass that was uncut, damp with dew and blood and God knows what else. I inhaled, lost for a moment in the reality around me. I could smell the grass, the metallic tang of Chlorophyll that a lot of people came to associate with freshly cut grass. There was an undercurrent, too, one of blood and death. I blinked once more, unclenching my hands from their dirt cocoon to roll onto my side.

Lucifer had stabbed me, but it wasn't fatal. It just stung like a bitch. I could, now that I was on my side, see the world around me. There were lingering vestiges of Grace swirling like fog first thing in the morning, coupled with the acrid scent of Hell that I was glad I had missed. I didn't remember falling unconscious, but it may have been when Lucifer had taken over Sam's body and stabbed me.

_Sam_.

I had almost forgotten him. He had been used, controlled like a fucking puppet. Dean had his hands cut out with Michael until Castiel had banished him with an 'Angel Molotov.' Lucifer looked hell-bent on blowing him up until I had distracted him, and my brother... my brother, wearing the man that I was secretly in love with, had bent down and picked up the Angel killing Blade that lay by his feet, before sauntering over to where I was kneeled and plunged the blade into me.

_Tell me you love me  
>Come back and haunt me<br>Oh, and I rush to the start_

I sat up, mind swaying and reeling. I didn't want to know what happened. I was still alive, which was a bonus. The area around me was quiet, too calm. There was a sound emanating from the south of me that I couldn't quite put my finger on. Low words, animalistic noises, the rustling of clothing.

I looked around, shocked that Lucifer and Michael were no where to be seen. Sam had managed to send them back where I had failed. But at what price?

I heard a sob, marred by the low, carefully restrained voice of my younger brother, Castiel. My heart stopped for a brief second then sped into overdrive, blood pounding in my ears. I couldn't hear myself think; it blocked out all other sounds. I didn't want to turn around, didn't want to see what awaited me.

"Gabriel, you're alive. I thought... I thought..."

I shook my head, bowing low. Castiel was upset, I could hear it in his voice.

I turned around, preparing myself for the worst.

Sam was lying sprawled out on the floor, one leg bent, both arms splayed out on either side of him. His head was facing in my direction, as if I was the last thing he had sought out. His eyes were dark pools that no longer held light, but still were transfixed on mine. I couldn't look away, nor could I bare to see him.

_Running in circles  
>Chasing our tails<br>Coming back as we are_

"Sam!" I shouted, rushing to my feet. It must have been over shortly before I woke up. I was an Archangel, I could save him. I had the power to bring back the dead! I could save him!

Dean was haunched over him, hands fisting in the flannel shirt of his brother. Dean's head was resting on Sam's chest, ear over his heart as he sobbed; no longer caring about any form of charade that he was upholding for his own image. His fists, although holding onto his brother's shirt, were curling and uncurling; unbelieving that his brother, his _Sammy_ was really dead.

I felt tears prick at my eyes for the first time in a millennia, but I willed them away. If I could bring him back, I would.

Castiel had a hand on Dean's shoulder, unable to console his human charge. He was still cut off from Heaven; I could feel it around him like the scent of Death. What Grace he had left he was in favour of saving for an emergency, and I knew that he relied on me to save Sam.

"Sam," I whispered this time, stopping and falling to my knees in front of the prone body. Dean jerked as I touched his hand, and he glanced up to look at me. He looked a mess. Lucifer or Michael had really gone to town on him; I didn't know how he was still conscious. I pressed a hand to my torn abdomen as I leant over Sam's body, pressing numb, cold fingers to the pulse that should have rested by his neck. I felt nothing but an empty loneliness that needed changing.

Dean recoiled, shuddering deep breaths that were unlike him. I could see he was so close to cracking, to giving up on the world and killing himself. He was bordering on hyperventilation, but I was more concerned with trying to save Sam's life.

_Nobody said it was easy  
>Oh it's such a shame for us to part...<em>

I was on my knees in front of the clinically dead body, trying desperately to stop the flood of tears that wanted to fall. So desperately I wanted to curl up and cry; a notion that once held no solid basis for me. Sam Winchester had single-handedly changed my whole perspective on him. Not so much life, but something. Perhaps he made me _feel_.

I pressed shaking fingers to Sam's bleeding temple, staining myself with his blood. I hadn't realised at the time how much blood was covering Sam, and I sent a look at Dean telling him to stand back, without actually speaking. He seemed reluctant to surrender his brother's body to me but Cas pressed firm, cold hands to his shoulders and silently tugged him back, giving me space to work. Dean did not retreat far, and remained within two feet of his brother. I didn't mind, I wanted nothing more than to lie next to him, close my eyes and never wake up.

_Nobody said it was easy..._

I concentrated on pulling my Grace from me and sending it into Sam's neurone network, following his veins, arteries and capillaries, implanting it into his organs, too, to bring him back to life. Even though it seemed like a lot, the effect was instantaneous. At least, it was supposed to be.

Sam didn't move. He didn't blink, his heart didn't beat. The hand that had moved Dean was pressed again to Sam's neck, frantic in trying to find a pulse. I could feel my heart constricting, a strange feeling in my chest that I was not used to. I was copying Dean; feeling myself begin to start the motions of hyperventilating. I couldn't control myself. I was not used to this; I hadn't told Sam my feelings, I _still_ hadn't eaten a nine galleon tub of ice cream in one go. I hadn't messed with Dean's Impala, nor had I informed Castiel of a way to be with Dean.

It was worse, though. I had followed Sam for years, messed with him on so many levels, and I had still refused to admit my feelings for him. I guess you really find out your feelings for people when they've gone. This was unfair.

I tried again, pressing an entire hand to the younger hunter's cheek. Dean's strangled cry penetrated the unnaturally still air, ragged breaths puffing in the early morning. I hadn't realised what time it was, and the cold was beginning to numb my extremities.

When my Grace didn't work, I resorted to CPR. Being an Archangel, I knew what to do.

I fought back a grimace as Sam's ribs cracked under my palm, hands beating down a steady rhythm in a desperate attempt to get his heart to start pumping. If the heart works, then there's blood flow. If there's blood flow, he's alive.

When my arms began to tire I moved to press my lips to his, tilting his head back to breathe what should have been a life-giving kiss between his cold lips. His eyes stared at mine, dead and as black as coals, life having left him an aeon ago. This time, I did let out a sob, and looked away, clenching fists to stop myself.

_No one ever said it would be so hard. _

"He's dead, isn't he?" Dean asked, fully leaning on Castiel. The angel was looking at Sam with sadness, but I knew that he cared more for the living human then the dead one.

"Yeah," Brain working on auto-pilot, I leant into him again and closed his eyes, pressing my forehead to his.

"Sammy, God... You have no idea what you've done."

I kissed him, once, briefly, then sat back on my heels. Dean clambered back over, to lie over him, overpowered by sobs that would not stop any time soon.

I felt a tear work its slow descent down my cheek, followed by another, then another. My hands were bloodied, as if I had done the damage. Why had my Grace not healed him? He should be up and moving around, unaware of any heartache he had caused me and his stupid but caring brother. Castiel seemed interested in answering my question.

"Gabriel, I don't think Father's going to help us." He sounded as desolate as Dean had, and I knew that he was in mourning for the absence of his father all over again. We were truly abandoned.

I held Sam's hand, my left hand coming to rest on Dean's shoulder. He stiffened and looked at me, eyes red-rimmed and bloodshot, great tear-tracks washing away the blood on his cheeks. I was able to heal him of his damage, yet I couldn't bring one human back. Father had no idea how much I needed him. It meant we were truly cut off from Heaven, if our Grace was dwindling like Cas' had.

"Dean..."

"I know you tried. God knows you've tried. I'm not stupid, Gabriel. I know you care about him. I just wish... I wish he was here so you could tell him. I want him back."

It wasn't acceptance. I don't think I'll ever get that from Dean Winchester. But as we held each other in an empty field and cried for the loneliness that infected us, I wondered how we would ever emerge on the other side alive.

_I'm going back to the start._

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><p><em>*Cries*<em>

_I really don't know what was wrong with me. Perhaps I just needed to write something darker for a change. A lot of what I write has a happy ending, but I wanted you all to see that not every story ends happy. If you want me to write something for you, leave a review or send me a message. Leave a review if you liked it, or fave it. I appreciate whatever feedback you guys give me._

_Also, I just want to tell you guys something. Chlorophyll can actually have a scent; it releases chemicals and all sorts of stuff that is receptive to the human nose. I'm not making stuff up, okay? The smell you can smell when you cut grass is also chlorophyll. Just so you know. As I said, I'm not making this up. _

_The same goes for CPR; if you've ever given it to a living person you'll understand. The way compressions work means the ribs _will_ crack under your hands. It's the force of it all. A study shows that up to 30% of all CPR cases suffer from cracked ribs. It happens more for elderly people. _

_Thanks for reading; sorry for the essay. _


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